This Christmas Candle
by tiger002
Summary: The candle still burns


**A/N: **I present to you the third and final story in my Christmas series, started 2 years ago. More than another story of Carey and her kids, I present to you my story, one intertwined with this fictional family in ways I couldn't imagine so long ago. I also present what may very well be my last Suite Life story. This fandom has been awesome, the people in it so incredible. So, enjoy, Merry Christmas, and thank you, for everything.

**This Christmas Candle**

And so once more the Christmas season will come from nowhere, as these holidays tend to do. Without warning they come and pass, and many of us wish forever they would last. But for this mother in this holy season, she'll think not of an everlasting day, but of those many days long ago.

Though this won't be the first time her small home will be so empty.

A son with her, but one far away, and despite every time she tells herself to stay strong, on this special day, she'll let out a small tear for what she once had.

Her younger son will carry on as normal, a taste of normalcy from a year where so much changed.

She will shed a few tears over their dinner. For every ounce of good news from her son, another class aced, another heroic tale of fighting against the evils of technology at work, she'll think about her other son, the one where a simple phone call just won't be enough to fill the gap he left.

Still, she'll know that life goes on.

That times will change.

That one day her little men will grow up and go away.

But she won't have thought the day would come so soon.

Only after 20 Christmases together would one have his own family, his own daughter, and his own home.

She wouldn't believe it would be so soon.

"You okay Mom?" her other son will ask as she cries over their meal.

She will think to that Christmas two years ago, how she worried so much for her eldest.

How the mistakes he'd made earned him a stay behind cold bars, leaving him alone that Christmas day.

But he'd learned from his mistakes, learned from the pain, the tears, and the fear.

Though this was far from the only mistake he'd made.

A girlfriend he said he loved, a night where passion took him too far and a new life readied to enter the world.

She won't lie and say she didn't find a few gray hairs after hearing the news.

She'll think of that Christmas a year ago, where her family grew. Four sat at the dinner table, with one soon to come.

She'll think back to marveling at the maturing that almost made her forget the haste of her son's decisions.

She'll wish this Christmas could be like that one, with her granddaughter's smile lighting up the room brighter than any Christmas tree.

But not this Christmas. Her son following his love across the country. To be with family, the reason she gave. But the love of family will be what breaks this one apart. She'll ponder the importance of family with the little she still has left. She'll cry as the past never comes back.

But then looking to the window, she'll smile, as the candle burns brightly.

She'll think of the years it had burned to shine a light into the darkness.

She'll think to the church services of her youth, how they'd light the advent candles every week to anticipate the coming of Christ. She'll even spare a slight laugh at the time her friend had to try half a dozen times to light the angel's candle and of that time when the pastor's wife's hair caught on fire during the candlelight service. She'll think of the anticipation that the candles imbued, the message of hope they carried, the love had come, and would come.

She'll wonder for a moment what hope she'll still be able to hold onto.

And then she'll see that candle and remember all it means.

She'll remember the picture her son sent on Christmas Eve, a different place, a different type of candle, but the light shining the same against the dark of night.

And then she'll know.

The candle that burned when he was away, and burned still when he returned.

The candle of hope shines in the dark.

It burns away the night, guides the lost souls home.

The advent candles burn to represent the past, the angels, the shepherds, the prophets and the town of Bethlehem.

And then lastly, the fifth candle, the candle of Christ that ties them all together.

The hope that had come and promised life.

And even as the years pass, the light of hope burns brightly.

For a mother on the verge of a certain number she swore she'd never get to, she'll think of this hope, that her family had grown, that she was now a grandma, that her little men were men of the world. She'll believe in the hope that shines everlasting, the author's pen unseen, crafting the chapters of their lives. She'll think to her own future, wondering just where this dream will take her, but even amongst the mystery, she'll have hope.

For a man across the country, changing a diaper for what he'll swear is the fortieth time that day, he will think of his daughter's first Christmas, her laughter at all the lights, and her surprise that the ornaments weren't edible. He'll think back to that time those many years ago, after a New Years' party gone wrong led him to not being able to go the bathroom by himself, and he'll be certain that that was more than paid back for. He'll remember that Christmas so many years ago at their little apartment, the puppy he kind of stole for a present for his brother that brought such joy, and how he couldn't believe that Jackie would be so easily distracted by stories of Christmas that she didn't notice his coat barking. So simple those times seemed, but looking into the eyes of his little girl, he'll see the same simple joy there.

And with his daughter in another new diaper, he'll hand her to his fiancé, and wonder about his mother and little brother. He'll see that candle, carrying on the tradition, and he'll remember those many years ago, and think to the joy of this small family, and the hope of his future marriage, and perhaps of a little son as well. Though he'll know to wait at least until this one is out of diapers.

And even such a little frustration, he'll love her more than he ever thought he could love another person. Perhaps this apartment will seem a little bit small, perhaps his daughter goes through diapers worse than London went through clothes, perhaps he'll want a job where he could spend more time with family. But he'll know this stage will pass like so many, he'll embrace the joys in the moment, and hold hope for the future.

Because hope has endured, is enduring, and will endure for years to come.

…

These will not be the only ones celebrating the Savior's birth and reflecting on the journey the years write.

A man will look out over the clouds, blinded by the sunlight reflected off the wing with legs cramped from the seats way too close together. He will marvel at the journey these years have written.

What started with an image and a dream nonsensical to all but a mind of an author became something much more. What started as a simple comedy about two kids and the terror the caused changed lives in the way only a Divine Author could fathom.

And despite the small bit of physical pain he will be in, he will smile.

He will think of the candle lit in that small country church the day before as the plane begins to descend. He will ponder on how the candles may burn so dim but reflect something so great. He will remember the signs of the 'Breath of Heaven', and joining in singing angel's ancient song. He will take to heart the times, the laughter with a family not his own but one that made him feel at home.

As he lands back in his hometown, he will look toward the large church, where the advent candle is much less physical, but awaiting just the same. He will be amazed at the lights and sounds and pictures and dances. He will see and understand the Light that never dims, the candle that tore down the curtain and the tears of praise he'll have to give. He will think of his own family, how he's an only child with more siblings than he can count on one hand.

The candle burns the same, awaiting the celebration, the joy, the feast of Christmas, the presents and bows, the brothers and sisters wanting to throw one another into the fire of the chimney.

Unified or broken as a family may be, some things will always be the same.

He will think of people, from all races and creeds with a candle of hope burning in their hearts. Their candles burn in unison, a light of hope for those trapped in the darkness, a reminder to those who live in the light, and the unification of the family for all who believe.

For this candle, and all it represents, is the Christmas Blessing, and the Christmas Hope.


End file.
